


Five Stages of Grief

by lisa_jam



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Translation from Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisa_jam/pseuds/lisa_jam
Summary: Jason came back from the Pit and found he can never die.





	Five Stages of Grief

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Five Stages of Grief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6787975) by [lisa_jam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisa_jam/pseuds/lisa_jam). 



> I tried to translate this old piece. Verbs are painful. Wish I get better in the practice:)

One: Denial

He wasn’t aware when things first happened.

It was just after he had come back from the Pit. He was hiding in the back of a fully loaded van on a German high-way, trying to get rid of a group of assassins send by Ra’s Al Ghul. The devil lord apparently was not happy about sharing the power of Lazarus Pit with anyone else, not to mention it was his own daughter who steal the pit from him.

He heard those killers rushing their motorbikes outside as they approached the van. Once they approached the range, they began to sweep the rear door of the van using the machine guns in their hands.

Bullets bit through the thin metal of the doors leaving countless holes. Sparks flying everywhere. He lowered himself as much as possible behind the boxes. The broken rear door was quickly opened by the assassins. Several men in black uniforms jumped from their motorcycle seats and into the van, looking for his trace.

He grabbed the dagger that had been hidden in his boot. They fought in the van, he kicked the first man on the jaw, then grabbed the second killer and crashed him into the roof. He had grown stronger. With Talia's help over the past six months, he had reached a level far beyond where he once was, both in physical condition and combat skills, just like a man awakened from a long dream. He could feel the faint roar of something new and fierce inside his body.

And then the car came across a violent bump. He only remembered a bright hot flare burst in front of his eyes, then the explosion swept over him with a raging fire.  
He woke up and found himself lying in the middle of the road. A few steps behind him was the burning van. It seemed the rest motorcycles crashed on the van when the explosion happened and were also caught by the flame. Several bodies scattered on the ground around the crash scene.

He dragged himself off the road before the dazzling lights of police cars broke through the darkness in the distance.

He did not know how far he had made himself gone until he saw a gas station in front of the road. He stepped into the small shop in the gas station. The moment the cashier girl saw him, she screamed and ran out of the door.

That night, for the first time long since his resurrection, Jason Peter Todd looked at the reflection of his own face in that dirty bathroom at the gas station. He saw the face of a creature half covered in dry blood, eyes burning like coal. A devil climbing from hell.

At that point he still did not understand what had happened to him.

 

The second time he was chasing after the remain of a group drug smugglers who he got from one of Maroni's men in a junk yard. Those desperate thugs kept firing from the top of a pile of dumped cars. But Jason had patience. It was the first thing he’d learned from resurrection. He waited. He stayed away from them under a wasted car, waiting for their adrenaline to run off and fear to hover over their heads again. Then he pulled off his two guns and stood up.

Jason was a shooter of precision. He barely aimed, every time his ambushers rose form their hiding place just to find a bullet in between their eyes. He was natural at shooting, a gift he had never developed before when with Batman and his stupid faith.

He slowly stepped up toward the leader of these thugs. The tall man with tattooed arms looked up at him dumbfounded, as if he were looking the angel of death. Jason put the last bullet into his forehead, leaving his body fall as a heavy bag of sand.

He turned his head and saw the last member of the thugs. The boy couldn’t be more than fifteen years old, with barely grown hair around around his lips, and frightened eyes so round and big against his dark skin. He was so small that he had been hiding below the car junks during the whole time and Jason did not even notice him.

And he was not looking at Jason. Instead the boy stared down at a long metal stick trembling between his hands. The other end of the stick metal was shoved right through Jason into his lower abdomen. Dark blood dripped onto the ground, quickly absorbed by the sand.

The boy stumbled backwards and ran away, leaving him alone with the darkening sky and the gales from the desert.

The whole scene of pulling that stuff out was pretty as hell all over again. Jason made it. No one came back for him, so they must have thought that he was dead, for no one should survive such nasty injury.

Jason would have thought so, too.

 

The first thing he had learned was that he always recovered. The terrible wound healed automatically after one night. He did not even have stitches. A week later, there was only a faint trail left on his lower belly to prove it had existed. He tried to cut one wrist open and only found it to heal in less than an hour. He wasn’t stupid enough to chop off a hand or something else for a test, but Jason assumed that wouldn’t make any difference, either.

Only by then Jason finally realized that he was not not-dead. He will not die anymore.

This was another gift from Lazarus Pit. Although Jason had not asked for any of its damned gifts from the very beginning.

 

Later, he corrected himself: it was a curse.

 

Two: Anger

The night he returned to Gotham to challenge Bruce, the elder man believed he’d once again lost him. It was not the fault of Gotham's Dark Knight to think so, because most people would never survive such severe explosions. However, Jason left the burning factory before the fire diminished and Batman was able to get in and search for him. His left arm hung on his chest because of the Batarang earlier Bruce had thrown at his neck, leaving a bleeding hole.

Fire burned him. It should have hurt. But he felt nothing.

 

He became more violent, ruthless, because now what was the point of hiding? He ran into his former family again, then again, but every time they looked at him, he saw the same reflection in their eyes. A ghost from the past, skewed, broken and distorted.

However, some of them still didn’t learn to give up. Dick Grayson, the first pupil of Batman, the beloved Boy Wonder, who he had been so eager to replace once. He chased after Jason like a stubborn shadow in the darkness.

"I just want to talk to you, Red Hood." Why did he never change? The passing of time seemed to fail on Dick Grayson. He was the same old loud-mouth Nightwing, but with slightly improved taste in uniform styling. He still thought Jason as the younger brother who could call him anytime if something happened.

Except Jason never dial the number Dick had given him during all that time. He had wanted it for maybe once or twice, instead he made himself hung up before he could press the key.

"What the hell do you want, Nightwing?"

Nightwing landed on the roof behind him, holding up his hands as a sign of peace. "Just normal conversations, like any ordinary people. I've had enough of us beating the crap out of each other every time."

"And then? We sit down and braid each other’s hair, and then you could convince me to go back home to your beloved family?"

Nightwing dropped his hand, a little embarrassed. "You know I didn’t mean that." He looks exactly like the year before everything had happened, when Dick reappeared in the mansion and announced that he will go skiing with Jason, in the mountain, a boys’ weekend he called it.

He half bribed, half kidnapped Jason onto his crappy car and drove them away from Gotham. They spent two days in a place somewhere Upper State. Dick even dragged him for an awkward picture before leave. It was the only photo they had together.

"I just want to get to know you," Dick said softly, "I want to know what happened to you while you were away, how do you feel now, and I wonder how I can help you."

"Help me," he repeated.

Dick was always like that. Building up unnecessary relationship, taking responsibility no one forces onto him. Jason had never asked him to be a reliable big brother, never asked for his support and care. He never pleaded with Dick's help, or rescue, or whatever he thought he could give.

"Help me? Right, like you’ve ever bothered? What were you doing when I was beaten and burnt? Traveling in outer space with your Titan friends? Where were you when I needed you? "

Dick looked like he took a punch in the face. He paled.

The pain had lost meaning to himself long ago. He could only get a glimmer of revenge from Dick's shocked expression. "Now get the fuck off."

He jumped off the roof.

 

Three: Bargaining

However, Dick Grayson was proven even more stubborn than Batman. He still chased after Jason, running into his safe house, jumping after him from a hundred floors high, dodging raining bullets. He was good at it, maybe still the best of them, and once he made up his mind it was a pain in the ass to get rid of him.

"Stop, Red Hood, you were injured," he shouted at Jason in the rain. The strong wind at the harbor blew the rain in all directions, brushing against the miles of containers lying around.

"Not in the mood for chat today, Grayson," Jason tried to hide his limp steps. There was a bullet stuck in his calf. He knew that soon it would be pushed out by the growing flesh but right now he just couldn’t afford the wait for the miracle to happen.

Nightwing swept over and landed in front of him. "I know the group of drug dealers you’ve been following. They hired a team of armed guards waiting at the port, you can’t fight them alone. I have called Oracle for backups.”

"It's going to be at least half an hour for them to get here if the rain continues." The pain was distracting and irritating. "And you know all too well these guys are murderers. If they slip into the open sea I’ll never find them again.”

"Let me help then," Dick stepped forward. "I cannot watch you risk your life like this."

"Nice try." Jason grunted. "My place, my case. Move." He pulled out the gun and pointed it at Dick.

Dick did not move an inch. "Why can’t you just believe me? All I want is -"

"Yeah, you want to help, you want to make up, to fix me," he interrupted, "but you made a mistake, Dickie," he laughed coldly. "There's nothing left to be fixed. "

Dick bit his lip and shook his head sharply, his eyes burning, "I don’t -"

Jason pulled the trigger.

Gunshots echoed infinitely in his ears. Dick bolted and pulled out his escrima sticks. The gunman Jason hit fell to the ground in a big splash.

Those mercenaries came out behind the containers, circling around them. Rain fell toward them mixed with bullets, and it was hard to tell the sound between raindrops and gunshots.

"Go after the ship!" Jason dropped an empty gun, pulled his dagger and threw it into the chest of a killer.

"And leave you here to die?" Nightwing shouted back, struck down two men in a kick, "Are you really such a fool to think I would abandon you right at this moment?”

The last guy who dashed out of the heavy rain was tall like a hill. He smashed his huge fists at Jason and the latter ducked down just enough to avoid them. Then his bad leg gave in.

The killer reached out his giant palms, grabbed Jason's leg. He jabbed the dagger into the giant's shoulder, which only resulted in an furious roar, and he was scooped up by those palms. Jason wrapped his thighs around the giant’s neck firmly and twisted the dagger deeper and deeper, and the giant stumbled like an angry rhino, finally crashed into the derrick tower.

Tons of steel fell upon them.

"Jason -!"

 

He woke up and realized that he was still lying in the rain, next to the wrecked steel frames. Dick was knelling beside him, his hands on both sides of Jason’s body, rain washing over him, dripping from his jaw in a consistent line.

Jason coughed and tried to push away a steel beam pressing over his chest. "If you've seen enough, maybe you can give a hand…Or were you just saying pretty words?”

"I don’t understand," Dick said slowly. Those eyes behind his mask were icy blue. "You were not breathing."

Jason dropped the steel, ignoring its crashing in the muddy ground. He propped his upper body and wiped his face with his elbow. "You really want to waste time here? The ship, you stopped them?"

Dick was not distracted by his shitty skill of changing subject. "Your heart had stopped, right here. For all ten minutes. I fucking watched you die!"

He stared at Jason, for the first time there was a crack of vulnerability in his blue eyes. "What happened to you, Jason?"

"It was the Lazarus Pit." Jason blurted out, "You wondered how I came back? That's the answer."

Dick's eyes widened.

"I never begged to be resurrected, but I came back, again and again. This is what happened.”

"But I have." Dick's voice was soaked in the rain, almost negligible. "I’ve begged for any miracle to bring you back to us. Because you were so young, you were still a child, and none of us was ready to lose you ..."

Jason shook his head laughing hoarsely. "You still don’t understand? This Jason Todd who crawled his way back is no longer the faithful soldier of Batman, not the souvenir he put in the showcase. What you have here is damaged goods. One simply could not die- "

Dick punched him without thinking. He stood up, his fist slightly shaking.

"I think ... I need to leave," he said abruptly. Before Jason could say anything, he disappeared like a vague shadow.

 

Four: Depression

Dick hid from him in the next few days.

Maybe he freaked out, the fearless robin had his bad days. Maybe that stubborn birdbrain had finally figured out that Jason did not need to be saved. However, it felt a bit strange when all sudden there was no trace of the familiar blue stipe.

This was better, Jason thought to himself. He should not be back anymore.

What he did not expect was the attack from Black Mask. Apparently Black Mask was not happy about Red Hood destroying his highly profiting drug-trafficking ring right under his hose, plus the expensive hired guns he and Night wing had took down. His men ambushed in the apartment building where Jason's new safe house was located. The moment he stepped out of the elevator, he was pointed by a dozen of guns.

"Boss asks you for a talk, Red Hood."

They took him to an abandoned factory near the port, where Jason knew was a warehouse for Black Mask. In order to show deterrent, they first hit him with a crowbar, then bent him down till he kneeled on the ground. All his daggers and pistols were lined up aside.

A man took off his helmet and dropped it on the ground. At the moment, however, Jason was not worried that they would suspect his true identity – although Gotham's villains were outrageous, few of them would believe in supernatural crap like dead came back to life.

"Little fucker." The Black Mask picked up one of Jason’s pistols, and looked at him coldly. "How dare you to touch my goods. Do you really think you are the boss of the city?" He suddenly hit Jason on his forehead.

Jason shook his head and spitted the blood out. "I’m not the one who broke deals first. We have agreed no drugs will be sold to children."

Black Mask snorted. "You know these little punks, you can never stop them if they want to get the stuff. But you're a different case, kid, you made me lose a lot of money, and that will not end well." He lifted the gun to Jason's forehead. "I will not put a bullet in here. It would be too easy for you. There are many other ways to make you regret ..."

Jason did not blink. He stared at the Black Mask, slowly revealing his bloody teeth.

"Oh, do you really want to give it a try?"

The sound of a jar falling to the ground broke the tensed air. Chocking smoke quickly spread around. Jason bumped the thug who was holding him with his shoulder, and rolled into the smoke. He heard the Black Mask growling and ordered his men to open fire. In between the shots a shadow broke through the windows and dived down like a hawk.

Nightwing kicked down a thug and landed in front of him. He glimpsed over Jason behind his lenses for a quick assessment about his condition, and without communication they stood back to back.

"Always like to show off, circus boy." Jason punched a guy in the face.

"My fault," said Dick, grabbed a knife towards him and twisted the guy's arm. "How are you holding up?"

"As you can see, a few broken bones and probably one black eye," Jason said, tossing two more. "Don’t worry, it’s not like I'm gonna die again."

Dick hit hard on the guy in front of him and turned around, annoyed. "Can you stop it?"

"What?"

Dick waved. "This. Joking about life."

"It‘s a joke already, look at me," Jason said, loosening the unconscious thug in front of him. The two of them were the only ones standing in the room now. He tossed the weapon in his hand. "You need to let go, bluebird."

Dick stepped forward, his expression behind the mask difficult to read. "You selfish asshole, Red Hood, you feel you have the right to risk your life." His voice unsteady, "You never think about how others would feel-"

The rest of his words were stopped by a sharp gunshot. Dick had to take a step back, his blue eyes widened, looking down at his chest in confusion.

Jason felt his heartbeat drumming in the ear. Dick held a shaky hand over his chest and kneeled.

Not far away, Black Mask held a rifle and stood up behind the cargo he was hiding, his other hand holding up something like a remote control. "How about now? Have you expected this, huh?" The man's bloodshot eyes radiated a feverish light, his voice hoarse like burning in hellfire. "None of you will leave alive tonight!"

He pressed the remote control.

Jason saw white hot flames lit behind Black Mask, and next minute he was nowhere to see. He only had time to grabbed Dick at his waist and aimed at the window when the heat waves rolled them up. Heat caught on his back, burning his hair. He struggled to wrap himself around Dick’s unconscious body shielding themselves from the explosives splashing everywhere.

They dropped into the freezing Gotham River.

 

Five: Acceptance

Huge shock waves had made he lost consciousness for a while. However, the freezing water soon stimulated Jason to wake up. His arms were empty. For a moment Jason went cold and then his eye caught the figure slowly drifting into the dark water.

He made his way to Dick, grabbed him from behind. The surface of the water looked damn far away, his limbs were numbed, Jason never wished the Pit could’ve given him some superstrengh like now.

They finally get out of the water. Jason held Dick's neck, dragged him up shore, flatted him on the ground. Jason was sure the Kevlar had caught the bullet, but Dick still lied like a lifeless doll. He pulled Dick's collar open and peeled off his glove with teeth to check his breath.

No response. Dick’s eyes were closed, drops of water rolling down his cheeks. Jason's hands trembled.

“Come on, give me a response, you drama queen, I know you like making a scene. "He patted Dick's unconscious face and started CPR. "Aren’t you the most stubborn son of bitch of us all?"

"Come on!" He fiercely pressed Dick's chest and lowered his head again to breathe into his mouth. "You're not allowed to die here, do you hear me, Dick Grayson!" He slapped Dick's cold white cheeks.

Finally, after the long, unbearably dead silence, Dick spit out water and coughed. For a moment, Jason could only look at him, completely empty of thoughts.

Dick finally made an audible sound. "You could press lighter, Jay, my ribs are probably broken already... ..."

Jason realized his fingers were slightly sore from the hard push. He forced himself to release his hands and pull backwards. Dick coughed for a while, trying hard to prop himself up.

"So I think ... I probably should thank you." He flashed a faint smile to Jason, which smoothed the tightness in his chest. He had not felt something like this long since he rose from the Pit.

"Do not do that again," he said abruptly, trying to ignore the harshness of his voice.

"Do what?" Dick asked quietly.

"Trying to save me."

Dick raised his hand and took off his mask so that his blue eyes could meet Jason straightaway. His lips are still cold and white, wet hair stick all over his forehead and neck. He looked so vulnerable and almost unprotected as a newborn.

"I will always try my best to save you, Jason."

This was Dick Grayson. There was no one else like him, so stupid and stubborn and never knowing to give up, so fragile yet invincible, always reaching out his arms no matter the risks.

He lowered his head and almost rest it on Dick's shoulder.

"I don’t know how to get back."

Dick reached out slowly and tugged on his sleeve. Or more likely curling his fingers around the edge of his cuff.

"Stay. We figure it out together. "

He stayed quiet for a long time.

"Okay."

 

END


End file.
